Modern Mirkwood
by FlamestarBlaze
Summary: A collection of stories depicting some special occasions of a father and son, namely the modern family of Mirkwood. Told from different point of views, mostly from Legolas and Thranduil. May contain appearances of other characters such as Aragorn. Rated T for safety.
1. Hairstyle

Since his father works most of the time of the day, and did not allow his only son to stay at home alone, Legolas takes the schoolbus and gets off at his father's office tower. He just needs to walk for an extremely short distance to reach it.

Legolas, just like your average primary school ***** student, walks with a light spring in his step, and mischief twinkled in his grey-blue eyes constantly, though still good-natured.

But yet today, the workers and also Thranduil noticed an obvious change in his behaviour. Legolas dragged his feet, and his head hung low. He was unusually quiet during the car ride home.

Soon, Thranduil asked his son softly, 'Is something bothering you, my son?' He risked a sharp glance to his left at Legolas although his hands remained on the steering wheel. Naturally. Legolas didn't look at his father, but gave a short reply, 'I'm fine.' Thranduil did not pursue this matter. Legolas would tell him. Sooner or later.

It was when he was tucking in Legolas for bedtime when Thranduil approached the subject once more. He placed what he hoped to be a reassuring hand on his son's small one and asked cautiously, 'You can tell me, Greenleaf. I promise.'

Legolas didn't reply for a few moments, but when he answered his voice was shaky. 'Why am I wearing my hair long when my male classmates have their hair short?' Thranduil resisted from taking in a sharp breath. He'd expected this conversation to happen, but not so soon. Trying to skirt around it, he replied lightly, 'Because we don't go to the hairdressers often, child.'

'No.' The boy's answer was short and curt. 'That's not what I meant.' Legolas paused, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 'They laughed at me, papa. They said I look like a girl, and real boys shouldn't wear their hair long.' His breaths turned into haggard sobs.

Thranduil felt like his heart was wrenched out of him as he gathered the boy into his arms. 'Tell me, Legolas. Do I look girly?' Legolas sniffed, 'No.' 'Then if we both have long hair, why would you be girly when I am not?'

Legolas shook his head, 'Because you're bigger and stronger, papa. That's the difference.' _That darling child_ , thought Thranduil. 'You mustn't care what others think about your appearance, Greenleaf.' He balled Legolas' hand into a fist and pressed it against his heart. 'It's what's here that counts. Whether you are kind, helpful, polite.' He allowed himself a small smile and reassured his son, 'And you are definitely that.'

Legolas didn't answer for the moment. 'Although,' Thranduil touched the fair golden hair so alike his own, 'I can take you to the hairdressers if you wish, and find you a better hairstyle.' He rose and switched off the nightlight. 'You may tell me tomorrow. Goodnight.'

Just when Thranduil's hand closed around the doorknob, a timid voice rang out, 'But I don't want to, papa.' He turned hesitantly to his son. Legolas was sitting upright. 'I will be myself, and getting bullied into changing myself will be the last thing I do.' He said with a small smile. Thranduil gave one of his rare laughs, 'Goodnight Greenleaf. Sweet dreams.'

 ***Primary school: elementary school for you Americans**

 **I'd had to refrain from using Elvish multiple times. Must be all that LoTR fanfiction I was reading. I** **'ll be using the characters** **' original names, and try to avoid last names if possible. Since the stories are separate, there will be age difference. I hope you won** **'t get too confused.** **Anyway, this is my first fanfic, hope you like it. Constructive criticism is welcome. Review please!**

 **Here's an angry Princess Leia ¬3¬**


	2. Treasure

A man and a woman stood together, window shopping. The lady held the hand of a young boy around the age of five with huge blue-grey eyes.

Young Legolas spotted a Hot Wheels stall across the street and tugged at his mother's hand eagerly, hoping to get her attention. Ithilwen answered distractedly with a simple reassurance that he'll get a gift, her attention fixed on her husband.

The family had decided to go on a shopping spree after Thranduil got a huge promotion. Right now, said male was trying to persuade his wife to buy the stunning sequin dress. Ithilwen refused, stating the price was too high, but to be honest, anyone can tell she wanted it.

Legolas pouted slightly at the lack of attention, eyes fixating on the toy cars. He flung away his mother's hand without thinking and raced across the street.

Ithilwen noticed this. Crying out his name, she followed in pursuit.

Thranduil turned, just in time to see it happen. His wife fell.

* * *

Thranduil sank to his knees next to Ithilwen, barely noticing the commotion around him. The yelling, confusion, cars honking… He barely registered the driver getting out of the car and calling the police. 'No, stay with me Ithilwen. I need you here.' He whispered, taking hold of his wife's hand.

Ithilwen smiled sadly, breathing ragged. 'Is… is Legolas alright?' Without waiting for an answer, she continued, 'Take care of him. He will not know what happened.' Thranduil clutched her hand tightly, 'Don't go. Not yet.'

* * *

Rosie held the fair-haired child in her arms, her heart breaking at the scene unfolding before her. It was such a fine day. Did this really had to happen?

'Why's mama on the ground? Is she asleep?' A soft voice interrupted her train of thoughts. 'Yes,' she replied, voice cracking, 'Yes, your mother's sleeping.'

* * *

Thranduil unclasped the diamond necklace around Ithilwen's neck at her request. Instead of a ring, this was what he presented to her when he proposed. The ambulance arrived and took Ithilwen to the hospital. Thranduil didn't go. In his heart he knew she was beyond help now, but he could still hope.

Thranduil went over to the stall. The salesclerk set his son on the ground, eyes expressing pity. He gave the lady a swift nod of thanks, then turned to the child.

Legolas stared up at his father imploringly, confused. Thranduil's eyes became cold. A feeling stung him. Anger? 'Come, Legolas. We're going home.' His voice came out harsher than he had intended, but he didn't allow himself to wince.

There was no conversation between the father and son on the journey home. Legolas's head was lowered, as if he had caught on to what had happened. _But of course he hasn't_ , thought Thranduil bitterly. _Of course he hasn't_.

* * *

Word came to Thranduil swiftly that his wife had passed away. After tucking Legolas in, he had gone to the hospital, where he was informed of the occurrence. Few tears were wept at the funeral, both father and son buried in pain and grief, the latter fully comprehending the situation at an older age.

For the next few months, Thranduil buried himself in work, and asked Gandalf Greyhame, a friend and a vice-headmaster in a nearby secondary school, to take care of Legolas. Deep inside he knew he should be spending more time with his son, but he convinced himself he was doing it for Legolas.

One day as Thranduil was preparing to leave for work, Gandalf said, 'Your wife left you a child, Thranduil. Would she want you to help your son in the road of growth, or provide him with materialistic pleasure? And the necklace you hold onto so dearly these days. Would Ithilwen have you treasure that, or your son? ' Thranduil stared at the wizened man, dumbstruck. Gandalf closed the door, saying quietly, 'Good day.'

* * *

Thranduil dragged his weary body back to his house that night. Changing into his pyjamas, he quickly collapsed onto his bed and sleep took him.

In his dreams, a voice called out to him. 'Father.' He recognized it as his son's, but it was deeper, stronger. Older.

'Legolas,' Thranduil replied. Then he realized he could not see anything, or else he was shrouded in murky darkness. 'Where are we, Legolas?' There was no reply. 'Greenleaf?' 'I am fine, father.' This time his voice was further away and distant.

'Where are you? Give me a sign, please.' Thranduil begged. A few moments, then, 'It is safe.' 'What is?' 'Mother's necklace.' So faint. 'No,' answered the man. 'I don't care about that.' And he meant it. 'I want you safe, Greenleaf. Are you here?' He asked cautiously.

No reply. 'Legolas?' Thranduil felt terror growing in his chest. 'Legolas!' Gandalf's voice resounded in the darkness. _Would Ithilwen have you treasure that, or your son?_

* * *

A small hand jolted him out of his dreams. Wide blue eyes stared into his. 'I'm scared, papa. The thunder's so loud.' Thranduil's breathing steadied and his mind grew clearer. 'I'm here, Greenleaf,' He whispered as he gathered his son into his arms and drew the blankets over them both. 'I'm here.'

Legolas's body sank into his embrace as he fell asleep once more. 'I'll treasure you always,' Thranduil breathed. 'Always.'

 **Secondary school: somewhere around middle school to high school**

 **Edit 3/3/2017: I just realized the line breaks I made in Word can't show here. Just added them.**


	3. Bucket

**[Background:** _ **Bucket**_ **takes place shortly after** _ **Treasure**_ **, perhaps a few months afterwards, when Legolas is almost finished with kindergarten.]**

'I want it!' yelped a mousy-haired boy, latching his hands onto the boat which Legolas was playing with. 'No!' protested the blue-eyed child. 'It's my turn to play!'

The toy in question was a sailboat with white sails made of canvas, the type pirates used to cross the seas with.

Now not to be mistaken, Legolas was a good-natured and caring boy who followed his teachers' instructions. Rarely would he have an unusual outburst, but he was a child, after all.

Legolas had waited for a long time to get his hand on the toy sailboat. It appears to be quite popular among the other kids. He certainly wasn't about to let his fellow classmate simply take it without a fight.

Just as the kids were tugging the boat between them, the canvas sails were torn open with a loud _riiiiip_. The teacher, Miss Clarys, turned to the shock-still children. 'Alright, which one of you started this?' The mousy-haired boy shrieked, 'It's Legolas! He didn't share with me!' Legolas immediately said, 'But I waited for a long time to play it! It's-'

Unheeding his frantic protests, Miss Clarys ordered disapprovingly, 'Legolas, go to the bucket.' Said boy lowered his head in reluctant acceptance, knowing it's useless to argue, and shuffled to the side of the door, where a bucket big enough for a kindergarten student to sit in lay.

The Bucket was a time-out corner for delinquents to cool down in. The child is required to fold his or her legs and sit inside the bucket in a rather uncomfortable position.

Legolas did as he was told and settled into the bucket. He was to 'sit and cool down' for 5 minutes. _Totally unfair_ , he thought angrily to himself. Suddenly, he realized something. Ms Clarys had told them at the first day of school:

' _Being in the bucket means you have done something wrong. It is not a punishment, but a quiet time that you can use to think about what you have done and what you can do to improve. You may not, I repeat, may not exit the bucket during the few minutes.' Miss Clarys had said. 'Yes, Miss Clarys.' the class chorused._

 _Don't leave the bucket_ , Legolas mused thoughtfully. He glanced to his right. The door was open. He stole a look at Miss Clarys. She was busy cheering up a classmate. _It's getting rather boring anyway._ He thought.

* * *

Legolas shifted in the bucket. It moved a bit to the right. He shifted again. The bucket moved again. Slowly but surely, he got closer and closer to the open door.

He made a double-check that no one noticed him before he escaped into the hallway. Shuffling along, he passed multiple classrooms and went out of the front door, only to hear an enraged and frantic voice calling his name.

'Legolas!' Miss Clarys shrieked, running after him. 'How dare you run out like that? I've been looking everywhere for you!' She started dragging him back into the center. Legolas didn't complain. He got out, even if not for long, and that's what matters.

* * *

'Yes… yes, your son…' Miss Clarys's voice faded into a drone as Legolas kicked his legs back and forth on his chair. Now that the adrenaline was fading, he was starting to worry about what his father will think about his behaviour. _No good responses_ , he thought wearily.

After an hour or so, the bell jingled at the front door. Thranduil stepped into the reception room with a carefully neutral expression. Legolas looked up at him timidly. Miss Clarys immediately told his father everything, and finished with, '-this behaviour is utterly unacceptable. Please take your son early back home.'

Thranduil stared at the teacher for a few moments, then replied with a blank expression, 'But he didn't leave the bucket.' He scooped his son up in his arms and turned to leave, the teacher watching, dumbfounded. Legolas stuck out his tongue at her over his father's shoulder cheekily.

 **A/N: I need to apologise for the lateness of this chapter, due to exams, writer's block and whatnot. I was originally writing another story for** _ **Modern Mirkwood**_ **, but I got stuck. Thankfully I got an idea.**

 **The base idea for this story is not mine, but actually from Tumblr user digatisdi. Credits to him.**


	4. Friends

Legolas arrived early to school as usual. Today he simply couldn't sit still when he had breakfast with his father. After all, it was the first day of school after the long summer holiday. (I suppose you and I wouldn't feel this way when we need to go back to school, but still, he was young.)

He watched as his fellow classmates trickle into the classroom from his seat, looking up occasionally from the novel he was reading. He was so engrossed in the story that it seemed to be just a few minutes before the class teacher, Miss Williams, did the roll-call.

'Sam Wilson.' 'Here.' 'Amy Sharon Davies?' 'Here, miss.' Legolas let the voices fade into a drone as he stared out of the window, only breaking from his stupor to confirm that he arrived. 'Aragorn… Elessar?' His head snapped up. Elessar? This surname sounded familiar.

The classroom door flew open and a boy with unruly dark-brown hair rushed in. 'Sorry I'm late, Miss,' He panted, 'Traffic was a bit slow.' Miss Williams smiled. 'Ah, there's our new classmate. Everyone, meet Aragorn Elessar.'

The class erupted into a frenzy.

'Elessar?'

'Isn't it that… that murderer or whatever?'

'No! I'd heard that Elessar transported cocaine!'

'That ain't correct! I heard from my parents that…'

Legolas thought, _So that's why it's so familiar._ He inspected the boy in front of him closely. Aragorn had curly hair that framed his face, and light grey eyes that would have been rather scary if it didn't hold the terrified look it did now. He also seemed to be rather skinny. He wore faded jeans that were too large for him and were patched up in multiple places. The straps of his backpack looked like they were going to fall off any second, held together only by a bobby pin.

'Alright children, hush now please.' Miss Davies said. The class fell back into silence. 'Aragorn, please sit at the empty seat right next to Jack.' Said boy didn't look too happy with the arrangement, but he didn't say anything as the newcomer slid uncomfortably into his chair.

The next few lessons passed quickly. Aragorn would occasionally raise his hand to answer questions, but he eventually grew less enthusiastic when the class burst into murmurings every time he spoke. Legolas felt bad for him, and sought to approach him at lunch.

By the time the lessons were over, Legolas had almost forgotten about Aragorn. Everyone had already filed down to the cafeteria, and he was prepared to leave the classroom as well when he realized Aragorn was still in there.

His hand left the doorknob and he turned towards the boy. 'Uh, hey!' He attempted, then winced at how feeble it sounded. Aragorn looked up from his sketchbook, startled. A grin was quick to form on his face though. 'Hi! Legolas, right?' Legolas gave his a quick nod in confirmation, and walked closer.

'What are you doing?' Aragorn turned a slight shade of red. 'Um, drawing.' Usually Legolas wasn't the more talkative of his classmates, but this time he decided to take the lead. 'Can I see?' he asked. Aragorn hesitated for a moment before he slid the sketchbook towards the blond-haired boy. 'See, ninjas!'

Legolas must have looked rather shocked because Aragorn turned a deeper shade of tomato and dragged the sketchbook back to his side of the desk. 'Oh, no no no…' Legolas stuttered, raising both hands in reassurance. 'It's okay. I… uh… I like ninjas too.' Aragorn didn't look convinced. 'Really! And I think your drawing's pretty good as well!'

A small smile tugged on Aragorn's lips. 'You wouldn't make a very good ninja.' He said suddenly. Legolas blinked. 'See, with your long bright-blond hair and all. The moonlight would reflect off it.' Legolas reached up to touch the tips of his hair unconsciously, like every time someone mentions his long hair. He was still a little self-conscious, although he's not as embarrassed as he was before.

'Well, I'm pretty good at sneaking around.' Legolas shrugged. 'I could be an assassin.' 'Like Hawkeye and Black Widow.' 'Yeah, exactly! You're a Marvel fan too?' 'Uh-huh, totally.

'I read all the comics, although I can't watch the movies. My family doesn't have that much money.' Aragorn seemed to shrink back a bit when he mentioned this topic. 'You can come over to my house sometime. I got all of the Marvel movies.' Legolas offered, and smiled as Aragorn brightened up once more.

Legolas found that Aragorn was quite talkative once you've gotten him to open up. The two boys talked and talked, completely missing lunch, leaving their food untouched.

Many of the other classmates gave Legolas strange looks as the classes started again, but the blonde didn't care. After all, in his opinion, why judge someone for something they've never done?

At the end of the day, the boys walked towards the entrance of their school together. Legolas paused before it, seeing that Aragorn is heading the opposite way.

He held out his hand. 'Friends?'

'Friends.'

 **A/N: So sorry! It's been a while since I've posted (a long, long while), and you guys have my apologies. Writers' block (again) and also because I kind of lacked the motivation.**

 **Anyways, thanks for all the favs, follows and reviews. I really appreciate your support! I hope you enjoyed it so far!**


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